TOM PURDIE. 137 



to which a salmon always returns after rising at the fly. 

 Tom Purdie gave me an account of a fish that had 

 perplexed him greatly by his non-observance of this 

 rule, as nearly as possible in the following words. He 

 might have used fewer certainly, but Tom was not 

 laconic. 



" I had," said he, " risen a sawmon three successive 

 days at the throat of Caddon-water fut, and on the 

 fourth day I was determined to bring him to book ; and 

 when he rose as usual, I went up to Caddon Wa's, 

 namely, the pool opposite the ruins of Caddon Lee, where 

 there had been a terrace garden facing the south ; and 

 on returning I tried my old friend, when he rose again 

 without touching the heuck : but I got a glimpse o' him, 

 and saw he was a sawmon o' the biggest sort. I then 

 went down the river to a lower pool, and in half an 

 hour came up again and changed my heuck. I began 

 to suspect that having raised the fish so often, I had 

 become too anxious, and given him too little law, — 

 or jerked the heuck away before he had closed his mouth 

 upon it. And as I had a heavy rod and good line, and 

 the castin' line, which I had gotten thrae the Sherra, 

 had three fadom o' pleit gut at the end of it, and the 

 flee was buskit on a three plies o' sawmon gut, sae I was 

 na feard for my tackle. I had putten a cockle-stane at 

 the side o' the water foment the place where he raise ; 

 forbye I kend fu' weel where he was lyin' : it was at 

 the side o' a muckle blue clint that made a clour i' the 

 rough throat, e'en when the Queed was in a brown flood, 

 as she had been for twa days afore. Aweel, I thought 

 I wad try a plan o' auld JuniperbanJis when he had 



